Hush
by SydneyTheAwesomeNerd
Summary: This takes place a little after a year of The Dark Knight Rises. This is my idea of what the next movie should look like. Villains: Hush, Riddler and Scarecrow. Hero: Nightwing
1. Prologue

_Hush, little baby, don't say a word._

_Papa's gonna buy you a mockingbird._

Heavy boots made their way across the rotting wood planks. A trench coat just made it way to a man's ankles. The smell of disinfectant was nearly overwhelming. Though, the man walking was used to it. A single scalpel was held tightly in the man's gloved hand. His face, covered with bandages, looked over at the medical table in the room.

Gordon made his way to the podium. Once again he'd have to make this speech. The speech for when a person died. Though, this time he wasn't sad. He knew that they didn't die, but no one else knew. They couldn't know, because it was pay back for everything he had done for the city of Gotham.

_And if that mocking bird won't sing,_

_Papa's gonna buy you a diamond ring_

A scrawny man lay unconscious on the table. Blood trickled down his cheek. Once the man with the scalpel approached the table the thin one started to awake.

His sunken in eyes widened in fear. He tried screaming, but he couldn't. His vocal cords damaged. He struggled on the medical table but his wrists were strapped down. This was going to be his end.

"Bruce Wayne is dead," Gordon spoke as he glanced at his papers. "While there isn't a body found for him, the search has gone on for a little over a year, we can only presume he is dead." He paused for a moment. "Let's not forget about the Wayne's memory and everything they have done for Gotham City. Some ways we've seen what they have done…Other ways have been kept hidden in the dark."

_And if that diamond ring turns brass,_

_Papa's gonna buy you a looking glass_

The bandages slowly began to unwrap, "Excellence is an art won by training and habituation." Slowly, a new face was being revealed. "After months of this, we are now one in the same, aren't we…" A man smirking appeared as he spoke the man's name of which he resembled. "Bruce Wayne?"

"Over the past few months bodies of men have turned up in alley ways," A blond woman spoke. "All of these men have had their faces surgically removed. The motive of the killer is currently unknown. All that is known is that the killer used bleach to cover up their tracks."

Bruce Wayne made his way up the steps of a building – Wayne Enterprise. A smug look was written on his face.

"In other news Bruce Wayne has been announced of being alive. During the attempt to destroy Gotham he was struck across the head and he lost his memory. Now, he was in the middle of negotiations in order to get his company – Wayne Enterprises – back."

"Gordon, there's someone here to see you."

A man walked in and Gordon stood up, "John, what brings you here?"

"No," John shook his head, "It's Robin now."

"Alright, Robin, what is it?"

Bruce Wayne walked down the halls of Wayne Enterprise. An elderly man turned around. Shock took him for a moment, but his eyes then narrowed. He straightened his tie and his finger rested on a button nearby.

"May I help you…Whoever you are?"

"Lucius, you don't remember me?"

"Bruce Wayne is dead."

"Bruce is dead, why is he back all of a sudden?"

"Obviously, it's not Bruce Wayne. We need someone to do something about it…Someone like Batman." Gordon glanced over at Robin. "And since you're not part of the task force anymore…"

"Got it," Robin walked out of the Commissioner's office.

A fight broke out. Punches flew left and right, while another used a cane for combat.

"Bruce Wayne is dead," A masked man growled while using a cane hold the look-a-like down. "That's why Batman isn't here anymore! Who are you!?"

The look-a-like smirked, "Isn't that the riddle?"

"Robin," Gordon stopped him from leaving. "What are you going to do?"

He turned back with a smile, "When it's night look for my wings."


	2. Scene 1

Heavy boots made their way across the rotting wood planks. A trench coat just made its way to a man's ankles. The smell of disinfectant was nearly overwhelming. Though, the man walking was used to it. A single scalpel was held tightly in the man's gloved hand. His face, covered with bandages, looked over at the medical table in the room.

A scrawny man lay unconscious on the table. Blood trickled down his cheek. Once the man with the scalpel approached the table, the thin one started to awake.

It took a moment or two for the man's vision to clear. Once he realized where he was, his sunken in eyes widened in fear. He opened his mouth. He tried screaming, but he couldn't. The man with the scalpel simply smirked knowing no sound would come out. The bound man's vocal cords were damaged. That was the first thing to go.

"Shh," The man with the bandages and scalpel hushed. He pressed the blade against the other's lips. "You'll hurt yourself more. Not that it matters."

The thinned out man struggled on the medical table, but his wrists were strapped down. Salty tears ran down his face. He knew this was going to be his end.

"Now, should we begin with the transplant?" The bandaged man made his way to the other's face.

An older man – though he wouldn't be considered elderly – made his way to the podium. Once again he'd have to make his speech. The same speech for when a person died. Though, this time, he wasn't sad. He knew that the one he was making the speech for didn't die, but no one else knew. They couldn't know, because it was pay back for everything he had done for the city of Gotham.

"Bruce Wayne is dead," Gordon spoke as he glanced at his papers. "While there isn't a body found for him, the search has gone on for a little over a year. We can only presume he's dead." He paused for a moment. "Let's not forget about the Wayne's memory and everything they have done for Gotham City. Some ways we've seen first-hand what they have done…Other ways have been kept hidden in the dark, but have kept of safe."

All the people grew quiet. The only sound was a newspaper blowing through the streets. It caught onto a person's leg. The person bent down and picked up the paper. Through their glasses, they scanned through the headline. A smug look grew onto his face.

"Today, Gotham said goodbye to Bruce Wayne. Commissioner Gordon stated in—." The television went off.

"But of course," A dart hit the bull's eye on the dartboard. "It would only make sense that when one dies they die. So when Batman died, Bruce Wayne died. Those idiots just can't see it, can they?"

Suddenly he stood up. He grabbed a cane and limped over to a counter. He took out a bottle and popped a pill or two into his mouth. Placing it back down, he walked to the dart board and collected the darts of which he threw.

"I, Edward Nygma, will show Gotham who Bruce Wayne really was."

"Any difference?" A gruff voice questioned.

"None," A deeper, but not so gruff voice replied.

A man, whose name was Aaron Cash according to his name tag, stood in front of a cell. Through the barred peak hole escaped the scraping noises of what were supposed to be lullabies. The eerie voice made the lyrics seem twisted in their own ways.

"Ever since Bane, Crane's been crazier than usual," Cash muttered to the guard next to him. "What's with these lullabies anyways?"

"I heard rumors from the docs saying that it was his grandma. Man, what kind of sick grandma does that?"

"Does it frighten you?" The lullabies stopped. "Tell me, what is it that you're really afraid of?"

"Shut it Crane!" Cash beat on the door.

"Oh," The used to be doctor paused in his speech and pressed himself against the barred window, "Crane's no longer here. It's Scarecrow."

-A/N-

Sorry it's shorter than what I usually write. I try to make my chapters around 2000 words each. However, I'm thinking of how it would be filmed as a movie. There would probably be more dialogue…But I'm not a very wordy person when it comes to speaking, so conversations tend to elude me…Anyways, I hope you liked it none-the-less.


End file.
